


Black Lion Red

by nodere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, slice of life - sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nodere/pseuds/nodere
Summary: If all the paladins get color-coded robes, slippers, and pajamas, who is to say they don't also get coffee mugs? Keith takes Shiro's and goes about his day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble to get back into writing.

“You could give me a hand here,” came the muffled voice. 

Keith bit his knuckle as he watched Shiro’s chest heave and then contract. “Not a chance.” 

“Aw come on!”

Keith stood up and stretched, still watching Shiro sitting on the bed, struggling desperately to get a shirt on. “Nope.” He glanced around. Had he forgotten anything else? “You do realize that’s not your shirt, right?”

“… Keith!”

Keith smiled to himself. This was a side of Shiro he so rarely got to see and he was enjoying it. “I said no. Anyway, I’ve got some stuff to do. I wanted to see about adding cloaking to Red- I don’t know why Pidge didn’t just add that to all the lions - and I’d like to improve her signal tracking. Her range feels a bit short sometimes but I still need to do some testing to find out how much of the problem is Red and how much is outside interference.” Keith pulled the neck of the shirt down past Shiro’s face with a finger and kissed him soundly on the mouth before letting it go and watching him disappear again. “Later.” Keith smiled to himself and pushed up the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing, but it was Shiro’s and they just slid back down. He picked up his jacket and was about to leave the bedroom of the black lion when he spotted a mug. A mug shaped like the head of that very same lion. He grabbed it too and left.

+++

Keith was hungry, but instead of making the trip to the castle ship’s kitchen and then back to the hangar, he had gone directly to Red. Back inside her, he still marveled at the sheer amount of space within each individual lion. Even Red, who was only marginally larger than the green lion, had a functional kitchen, small exercise room, bedroom with bathroom, and even a common area in addition to the necessities for space travel. All the furnishings were comfortable but modular and could be folded into the walls or floor. 

In his own private kitchen, he had finally managed to program the replicator to synthesize something more akin to the food he was accustomed to. Admittedly, he’d had to enlist Hunk’s expertise in both culinary arts and engineering to do it, but the result was significantly more satisfying than the slightly sour, lumpy goop that was the Altean equivalent of soylent green. 

Keith fixed himself breakfast, which consisted of black coffee and salty oat cookies, and brought it to the cockpit so he could eat while setting up to work.

+++

Over an hour had passed before Keith crawled out from under the console, covered in dust and grease, sweaty hair plastered to his neck and forehead. He picked up the black lion mug and slumped in the pilot seat as he downed half of his now cold morning coffee. 

“What’s that, Red?” he asked, hearing her resonance as discreet thoughts within his mind. He listened. “No. I took it from Shiro. Don’t be jealous. Would you like it better if I gave him your mug in return?” He felt the sharp reply and laughed, considering that part of the lion bond. He generally found Red to be wary and mistrustful of him, but recently she seemed more open, more willing to communicate, and he was finally getting a sense of her personality outside of her function as both spacecraft and literal member of Voltron.

Keith wiped his hair off his forehead. It was starting to get long. He raked it back with his fingers, let it fall, then sighing, disappeared back into the crawl space.

+++

At the end of the day, Keith, freshly showered and wearing pajamas, returned to the common room of the castle ship. He was pleased with what he’d accomplished, even if it had only been adjustments to Red’s signal tracking. He’d missed dinner with the team, but had let them know to go ahead without him. Keith yawned, black lion cup of coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, having decided to read for a while before heading off to bed. 

Lance was seated in the center of the recessed, curved sectional sofa, headphones on, and staring intently at his laptop, thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was he was doing. Keith sat down at the open end and powered on his tablet. 

A few minutes later, Shiro appeared in the doorway. Keith looked up and watched him silently enter then scan the room. He set the tablet aside before taking a sip of his coffee. Shiro’s gaze settled on the mug. 

Keith pretended not to notice. “I see you found a shirt that fits.” 

Shiro’s brow furrowed and then his eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh. Yes.” He paused and Keith waited, watching. Another sip of coffee. “Keith?”

“Yes,” Keith replied.

“When you’re done with my mug, may I have it back?”

“Oh this?” Keith held the mug up and pretended to examine it as if only now taking note of what it was.

“Yeah.”

“No.” He pulled his feet up to sit cross-legged on the cushion and held the mug with both hands.

Shiro’s face fell in defeat. 

“But you’re welcome to come claim it.”

“That’s okay, you can keep it.”

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

“No, really, it’s fine. I’ll just find something in the kitchen.” Shiro turned to leave. 

“Shiro!” 

Shiro stopped and turned back to look at him, smirking. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Where? The kitchen?” Keith couldn’t hide the sarcasm in his voice.

“The usual place.”

A small smile played upon Keith’s lips and he picked up his tablet as Shiro walked out of the room. Red lion’s cockpit in one hour. He still had time to read a few chapters.

He powered it back on and found his place when Lance took off his headphones and looking over at Keith asked, “What was that about, Mullet?” 

“Nothing,” came Keith’s reply. “Absolutely nothing.”


End file.
